


do they have shake shack in nebraska?

by joisattempting



Series: look over there it's a wild falsettos college au [12]
Category: Falsettos - Lapine/Finn
Genre: Crack, F/F, F/M, Light Angst, M/M, Road Trips, and thus the hanukkah shenanigans begin, charlotte’s audi makes a comeback, i tried to make this less than 2000 words but failed, sarah doesn’t know how america works, sorta kinda?, we get an insight into Trina’s Pregnancy™️
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-03
Updated: 2019-12-03
Packaged: 2021-02-18 12:03:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21660532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/joisattempting/pseuds/joisattempting
Summary: the six go to nebraska to celebrate the holidays.
Relationships: Trina/Mendel Weisenbachfeld, Whizzer Brown/Marvin
Series: look over there it's a wild falsettos college au [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1518932
Comments: 7
Kudos: 34





	do they have shake shack in nebraska?

**Author's Note:**

> wow i actually updated in less than fifty years  
> but i’m excited about this one! and it’s my first ever road trip fic, so i’m kinda happy with how it turned out?
> 
> comments and kudos are greatly appreciated! they make me really happy :)

“Can you sit on my suitcase for me?” Whizzer yawned as he fumbled with the zipper on his sleek navy case. 

Two in the morning; a ridiculous time for the apartment to be filled with the sounds of stressed chatter, boiling kettles, and popping toasters. Outside, various forms of transportation darted around the well-worn roads, and it caused the fatigued four to wonder what could possibly have been so urgent, that it forced you out of bed at such an ungodly hour. The panicked wailing of an ambulance more than answered their questions. It was, surprisingly, a charming sight. Traffic and car lights alike cast a dreamlike glow over the city that never slept. Often, the photography major found himself in the cold, freezing fingers holding a camera - that hung limply around his neck - to his eager brown eye. Many of the pictures on his wall were captured in the same spot, at differing times of the day. 

There was reason behind their early rising; it was time to set off on their annual holiday road trip. Every year, all six of them made the excruciating twenty-two-hour drive down to Nebraska, in order to celebrate Hanukkah (and, in Cordelia’s case, Christmas) with Whizzer’s family. The tradition had began during freshman year, when the Browns moved back to the Midwest after their youngest had settled into haphazard college life. Homesick and saddened, Whizzer immediately agreed when asked if he wanted to visit over the holidays. Somehow, he’d roped the others into it, too. And so, bags were packed, and they all scrambled into Charlotte’s Audi, armed with snacks, a confusing map, and an abundance of pens. So, so many pens. 

Marvin rolled his eyes, allowing his backpack to slide off his shoulders and pushing his glasses up his snub nose. “I bet you don’t need half the stuff in there,”

“I like having options, Marvin,” Whizzer said matter-of-factly. “And you have no legal right to judge my packing habits - see? I know law shit too - because you, good sir, only have a backpack. For a trip that’s almost two weeks. That’s like, what I take to Target,” he pointed accusingly at the discarded bag on the floor. 

“Whatever, just let me sit on it,”

“Feldman! Brown! Get in the fucking car, Mendel and Trina are waiting!” a Southern-accented voice called out, just as the photography major was getting his suitcase to finally shut, tone mimicking that of a harsh football coach. A vexed Charlotte marched into the room, messenger bag slung over one shoulder. “Jesus, what’s in there? A person?” 

“Clothes,” Marvin smiled sickeningly, hopping off the case. “All Whizzer’s,”

“Just be grateful we aren’t going by plane,” Cordelia laughed, coming up behind her girlfriend. “The excess baggage fee would be scarier than Marvin’s face in the mornings,”

The blonde led the other three out of the guys’ room, ensuring to grab all four apartment keys, and asking Charlotte if the ones used for the car were in her pocket, and Whizzer if his “emergency cookies” were stowed away in the backpack he carried. After a final check of the apartment, the four took the elevator down from floor ten to the parking lot, where Mendel and Trina sleepily awaited them, having gone into the backseat to get some more shuteye. But they were both awake at the present moment, the man leaning into her side. She didn’t seem opposed to it. Actually, the girl wore a misty smile on her tired face, bangs a mess on her forehead as she looked at the sleeping Mendel on her shoulder. Almost about to nod off herself, Trina heard the abrupt noise of the trunk opening as Cordelia clambered into one of the the built-in seats behind the backseat. 

“Shit, that’s gonna be a workout to get down when we get there,” Trina said, sticking her head out of the open window, blue eyes wide as she watched Whizzer tie his suitcase to the roof with bungee cords. 

“It’ll all be worth it when my mother says I look ‘dashing’,” her fellow Midwesterner smirked, dusting off his hands. Their friendship was a strange one. Her being from Missouri and his being from Nebraska had caused them to bond over the fact that ranch on broccoli most certainly did not taste like feet, as well as words like ‘expressway’. 

The six had crafted a seating plan for long haul trips, meticulously perfected over sophomore year so as to avoid as many strangulations as possible. Every few states, they pulled over and switched. Three arrangements were made - Charlotte drove until they the car left Pennsylvania territory, promptly taken over by Marvin. Lastly, Trina would take the wheel as they made their way through Illinois and Iowa with half-shut eyes, breathlessly skidding to a stop in front of her friend’s home for the first seven years of his life. Under no circumstances were the remaining three friends allowed behind a steering wheel. It was a somewhat functional system, and it kept everyone from losing their sanity, so that was a plus.

This trip, Marvin predicted, wouldn’t differ too much from the previous ones they’d taken. All of them had roles. Not official ones, such as who was in charge of snacks or what route to take, but rather traits they’d found out about each other as the years progressed. Mendel always attempted to raise morale with shitty jokes and car games. Charlotte didn’t fail to remind her choice of company how much she loathed them throughout the journey. Using some kind of supernatural power, Trina managed to get everyone to shut up when the din was too overwhelming, as well as being the resident map-reader. Marvin took his position as the only lucid, rational member of the group very seriously. Cordelia yelled song suggestions from whatever seat she was in. Ever the child of the group (in both age and personality), Whizzer whined and begged for food, with a snarky comment here and there if he was tired. 

In the driver’s seat and unhappy about it, Charlotte pulled out of the parking lot, and the longest twenty-two hours began. 

A lot of initial screaming and hysteria ensued. The blonde seated in the trunk was belting the lyrics to the Twelve Days of Christmas, her girlfriend gritting her teeth as she kept her eyes trained on whatever exit she was taking. It was standard practice for Cordelia to sing Christmas songs on their Nebraska road trips; the others had granted her that privilege since she was the only Catholic of the group. Sometimes, Whizzer joined her in the off-key renditions. He was only half Jewish, after all. Once she had murdered the ears of everyone in the car, Mendel snatched her phone away and began playing the dreidel song, to everyone’s amusement. Even stoic Marvin, in the passenger seat, began singing. Exchanging glances with Mendel, both men smiled.

Admittedly, past Hanukkah celebrations while they were growing up had been exceedingly more enjoyable when spent at Mendel’s house. He was invited round to the Weisenbachfeld residence every year when they both moved to the city, aged fourteen. Young Marvin couldn’t help but notice the contrast between households. Where his own mother was never one for buying presents for her eldest, Mrs Weisenbachfeld always bought gifts for every member of the house (that included Marvin) for each of the eight days. Where Mr Feldman only allowed his brother to light the menorah, Estelle ensured that all the kids alternated. Marvin’s favourite parts were the informalities and relaxed atmosphere; nights were filled with music and laughter and egregious dance skills. He was, Marvin realised, always the best when it came to praying, having spent long hours learning them, memorising them, all to make his mother stop screaming. 

“Do they have Shake Shack in Nebraska?” Cordelia asked out of the blue, her voice noticeably hoarse. 

“We’re just going to the Midwest, Cordelia, not another planet,” Marvin said, turning in his seat and grinning. He already looked debilitated. 

“Dee’s never been out of New York before. Literally anywhere is another planet to her,” Whizzer teased, through a mouthful of the emergency cookies he’d already made a start on. 

“She would have, if she went on that fucking Ireland trip back in high school,” Charlotte said trenchantly, sarcasm practically dripping onto the steering wheel. 

“You missed out, Dee,” Trina piped. Her and Mendel were huddled close, watching the first documentary they found on the Internet. “Char and I snuck into the guys’ room every night and literally just played Kemps until morning. I’m the Kemps Master now, so fear me,”

Mendel’s eyes never left the plant documentary. “Trina and I used morse code to talk to each other through the wall, and Marvin almost killed me,”

“Well, who was the guy tapping on the wall like an idiot at one in the morning?” 

By eleven AM, Charlotte had traded the driver’s seat for one in the trunk beside her girlfriend, who refused to move. All six of them were getting notably antsy at that point. They’d been on the road for nine hours, drifting in and out of sleep. With a few stops here and there, the Audi had transported them to around the middle of Ohio. After Whizzer had asked if they were there yet for the fifth time, Marvin, in the driver’s seat, wagered it was time to take a stop.

They agreed to meet back at the car in fifteen minutes. As the med student filled her car with gas, Whizzer made a beeline for the convenience store, and Trina had grabbed a change of clothes and her toiletry bag, her destination being the bathroom. The law student leaned his back against the small store’s wall, the uncomfortable brick stabbing at his back through his zip-up. Craning his neck, he stared through his glasses at the sky, only wishing it were night so he could watch the stars. It was the first moment he’d had in a while in which he could just think. Face the problems he put off for weeks. 

No contact was made with his mother since freshman year. 

A fucking child was due in March. His child. 

He had a thing for Whizzer Brown.  
Shit, he had a thing for Whizzer Brown. 

“Everything alright, Marvin?” 

Startled, the man jolted when the psych major clapped him on the shoulder. He opened his mouth to dismiss him, but this was Mendel. The only thing that got him through that snobby, pretentious boarding school until they both were fourteen. Who begged his parents to ship his seven-year-old self all the way to Roxbury, so he could attend said boarding school. Whose cramped house he felt more at ease in than the decorative, well-kept place he was raised in. Plus, Mendel would bother him for the remainder of the trip if he didn’t say anything.

He said it anyway. 

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just...thinking. A lot of shit’s happening,”

Mendel tilted his head. “With the baby?”

Marvin nodded. “Trina wanted me to help pick out names yesterday. Shit, ‘Del, I’m not ready. I-I wanna be a good dad for this fucking child, but like… I’m twenty-one. I’m not supposed to be a dad when I’m twenty-one. Nobody is,”

“Excuse me, you little hecker, I’m right here. All of us are. This baby’s gonna have the childhood of a lifetime,”

Sighing, the brunet dragged a hand through his tangled curls. He wondered if Whizzer had a comb swimming around amidst all those clothes. “How am I gonna balance actually getting my degree with raising a son?”

Weakly, Mendel smiled. He pulled his best friend into a hug, standing on tiptoe so he could rest his chin on the other man’s shoulder. Marvin was two inches taller than he was, a staggering five seven, and made it his mission to never allow the aspiring psychiatrist to forget it. “We’ll burn that bridge when we get to it,”

“That’s not even how the saying goes,”

“Anything else bothering you?” Mendel queried, pulling away. 

“D’you think Whizzer likes me? Like, likes me?”

The other man shrugged. “Only one way to find out,”

“Let’s go to Omaha, bitches!”  
Speak of the devil.

Trina drove after they crossed the Indiana-Illinois border. Bouts of screaming and many toilet breaks later, she’d managed to make it into Iowa without a road rage. She drove late into the night, the others dropping like flies as the hours ticked by. By the time they actually drove into Nebraska, everyone was out cold, the only survivor being Cordelia. 

“Are those the chips Whizzer got in Illinois?” Trina giggled through the rearview. 

The blonde put a finger to her lips. “Shut up. He’ll execute me with that goddamn suitcase of his if he finds out,” she licked the debris off her fingers. “How do you think this year’s trip’s gonna go?”

Trina smiled, pulling into the all-too-familiar driveway. “It’ll be a long one, that’s for sure,”


End file.
